


Just a Peek

by bexara



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Humor, M/M, Mystery, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2012-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-18 01:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexara/pseuds/bexara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kise accepts a dare from some freshman players to take pictures of his teammates' lockers, especially Aomine's because he is always so adamant that no one see inside it. However, Kise comes away with more than just pictures when his little excursion is done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Peek

Necessity might be the mother of human invention, but curiosity would surely be the father of its downfall. At least that was Kise’s personal opinion. Because, his curiosity was definitely going to be the impetus of his own destruction.  He reiterated that to himself as he tip-toed through still, vacant hall that led to the Teikō basketball club’s locker room. Yet, even his dire internal warnings couldn’t stop his hand from pushing the door open and slinking inside.

Practice had ended hours ago, leaving the room deserted and dark. The few security lights planted on the ceiling provided the only illumination, and the muted light cast eerie shadows on the wall. It was unnerving, the gloom and absolute silence in this room normally overflowing with the noise and liveliness of rowdy, young athletes. Kise almost turned around, but that damned curiosity of his got the better of him. The curiosity,  _and_  his bet with the freshman Teikō players. Yes, it was at least 50% the fault of those little brats that he was now creeping around the locker room facing certain death if any of the other Generation of Miracles happened to catch him.  _Especially_  Aomine.

It had begun innocently enough, well as innocently as possible when you’re eavesdropping on your juniors. Kise had just completed a set of laps around the gym and was heading over to the side of the court for his towel. Amidst the whistles and running feet and the bouncing of basketballs on the court, he had stumbled on a group of freshman huddled in the corner between the bleachers and the wall. He had intended to leave them be, not caring that they were slacking off. Akashi would handle it in due time, Kise had no doubt of that. Nothing escaped his eyes. However, as he passed by, he caught a snippet of the conversation.

“And, I’m telling you. He had his locker opened until I went up to ask him a question, and then  _blam!_  he slammed it shut so hard and fast the entire row of lockers rattled for at least two minutes after. I’m not lying!” One of the freshmen said dramatically.

“I’ve noticed that, too! As soon as he sees someone coming, he closes that thing up tighter than Yoshida’s sister’s legs on Sunday after church.” Another confirmed with a rather crude analogy.

“Hey, I can’t help it that my family is Christian,” a third boy protested, presumably Yoshida. “And wait, when did you meet my sister?!”

Kise had been conflicted. On the one hand, he kind of wanted to find out about Yoshida’s sister, but on the other he was definitely interested in this person who wouldn’t let anyone see inside his locker. It was decided for him, however. The first guy spoke again.

“ _Everybody_  knows your sister, Yoshida. Just forget that. What I want to know is: what is he hiding in there that he doesn’t want anyone to see? Like I always say, they may be basketball prodigies or something, but that whole Generation of Miracles group is freaking weird. I bet all of their lockers have strange stuff in them.”

Obviously, Kise couldn’t stay quiet after that. He was a member of that “weird” Generation of Miracles after all.

Popping up behind the leader of the little group, a dark-haired dude with glasses, Kise had murmured, “What was that about the Generation of Miracles and their lockers?”

“ _Eeek!_ ” the group screamed in unison and scurried backward, apparently not expecting someone to drop in on their little party. And, definitely they were expecting Kise Ryouta, the genius all-rounder of the very Generation of Miracles they had just been dissing.

He hunkered down so that he was more or less eye level with the boys now cowering on the floor. Kise was smiling, his charming, easy-going smile, but there was a sharp gleam in his honey colored eyes that long, golden-tipped lashes did little to hide. It was the same expression he wore on the court right before eviscerating another player by not only copying his moves, but performing them exponentially better.

“C’mon, tell me. You’ve got me curious now.” His mild tone held a hard edge underneath. He was really saying, “Tell me or else.” The other boys heard it, understood it, and were too frightened to do anything but obey it. Kise might seem the mischievous, fun-loving playboy, but they had all seen his intensity during games. None of them wanted to be on the wrong side of  _that_.

“K-Kise-san,” the leader pushed his glasses up nervously, “we weren’t saying anything  _bad_  about the Generation of Miracles. We were just wondering what everyone had in their lockers, since you’re so unique and all.”

“Uh huh,” Kise laced his fingers under his chin. “Well, I can assure you mine is completely normal. Clothes, extra towels, autographed pictures I hand out to fans. Totally standard stuff.”

 _Your last one isn_ _’t_ _“standard_ _” at all!_ The three juniors wanted to cry out, but were too intimidated by Kise’s aura to do so.

Coughing, glasses-boy went on, “Yes, er well, maybe yours is normal, Kise-san, but don’t you think the others’ probably aren’t?”

That gave Kise pause.  “You think so?” he blinked at the group.

“Oh, yeah!” This was from the teen who had made the crude remark about Yoshida’s sister, a guy with a nasally voice and curly hair. “Midorima is obsessed with that fortune crap. Murasakibara is obsessed with sweets and snacks. Kuroko is … well, he’s just plain creepy the way he can pop up out of nowhere like that! Akashi is an evil over lord. And, then there’s Aomine!”

Kise was smiling when he brought up Midorima, chuckling when he mentioned Murasakibara, but frowned when Kuroko and “creepy” were used in the same sentence. He didn’t like hearing someone talk like that about Kuroko. The Akashi remark, well, that was right on the money, but he certainly would never,  _ever_  admit it out loud. Aomine, though, Kise didn’t understand the emphasis on Aomine. Almost as if the famed scorer was the worst of the lot. Wasn’t he just a basketball nut? A super-awesome, mega-amazing basketball nut that Kise would kill to be able to imitate, but that was a totally different matter. Kise assumed his locker would be filled only with basketball related stuff.

“Why do you think Aominecchi has something odd in his locker?”

“Because he never lets anyone see inside it!” The leader leaned forward excitedly. “He always shuts it immediately if someone comes close when it’s opened. And, Taro on second string jokingly asked Aomine once if he could see inside, sure it was filled with porn or something. Aomine turned around and said in this demonic voice, ‘How ‘bout I open your face with my fist instead.’ Poor Taro skipped practice for a week after that!”

The other two nodded vigorously. Kise rocked back on his heels. He certainly hadn’t expected to hear such an interesting tidbit when he squatted down a few minutes before. Why would Aomine be so adamant that no one see inside his locker? Maybe he really  _was_  hiding porn in there. Which totally wasn’t fair if he was because that’s something buddies shared with other! Kise was slightly offended at the idea. Okay, maybe they weren’t “buddy” buddies, but they got on well enough, and though he didn’t exactly follow Aomine around like a puppy (that was more how he interacted with Kuroko, not that he was admitting it or anything), he did chase after the ace frequently enough to possibly make a nuisance of himself. But, Aomine tolerated it and even allowed him to stay close, when Kuroko was the only one he let in before. That had to mean they were friends, right? And friends shared their porn. It was rule number 74 of the Man Code.

“Um, have you ever seen inside Aomine-san’s locker?” Yoshida asked Kise tentatively, apparently having gotten over the issue with his sister enough to join the conversation.

“I … I don’t think I have,” Kise admitted. “Actually, I don’t believe I have seen inside  _any_  of the other guys’ lockers.”

“See!” Glasses turned knowingly to his companions. “If even Kise-san here hasn’t seen inside any of them, then they are all probably filled with bizarre and maybe even dangerous stuff. Just like I said.”

He had to chuckle at that. “Oh, come on, don’t you think you are being a little dramatic? The guys probably have normal stuff in there just like me. You’re making too big a deal of it.”

“Hmpf, if you really think that, then why don’t you go check it out for yourself. Prove to us the Generation of Miracles aren’t a bunch of weirdo geniuses.” The leader pushed up his glasses again, and this time it was almost a challenging gesture.

“Please, I’m not going to go break into my teammates’ lockers just to satisfy some freshman’s whim,” Kise poo-poohed the idea with a curl of his lip.

“Aren’t you even a little bit curious about what’s in there?” Curly Hair asked slyly. “Just imagine what your teammates could be hiding from you. Don’t you want to see it?”

Well, Kise couldn’t deny his interest was piqued now. How could it not be after hearing about Aomine’s over-the-top antics.  His wavering must have been evident on his face because Glasses went in for the kill at that point.

“I dare you, Kise-san. I  _dare_  you to go find out what’s in each of the Generation of Miracles’ lockers.”

Kise tensed. A dare was another sacred man tradition. You just couldn’t back down from it without looking like a pansy.

“What do I get if I go through with it?” He wasn’t going to make it easy for them though.

“Er, lunch for two weeks?” Glasses looked to his two friends and shrugged.

Crossing his arms, Kise smirked. “I get handmade lunch from a different girl every day. Try again.”

“2,000 yen?” Curly Hair suggested.

“That doesn’t even qualify as pocket change for me. I work as a model, you know that, right?” He shook his blonde head in disbelief.

That earned him some peeved looks, but he didn’t care. He had already made up his mind to do it. Kise was just messing with them at this point because, well, it was fun.

“A date with my sister (since apparently everyone else has had one)?" Yoshida offered next, mumbling the last part kind of dejectedly.

Kise felt a little sorry for him. “Ah, no thanks, I can get my own dates. Look, I will think of something. You freshman just be ready to do whatever I say, alright?”

They seemed a little nervous then, but the leader straightened his shoulders, nudged his glasses up for a  _third_  time, and nodded. “Fine, we agree, but you have to get pictures. We can’t just take your word. We want proof of what you see inside each locker.”

“Fine,” Kise had echoed, and  _that_  was how he came to be prowling about the locker room after everyone else had gone home for the day.

There were scents he noticed now as he crept toward his first target. Sweat and musk and leather and the funky orange air freshener the custodians used. During the day, they weren’t that obvious, when dozens of hot, perspiring, active players were bustling around. Now, it was almost overwhelming.  He made a mental note to spray some of the cologne he kept in his locker when he got to that section. First, however, was Murasakibara’s. Kise stood in front of it, looked hastily around to ensure he was still alone, and inhaled deeply. Was he really going to go through with this? Since his hand was already reaching for the locker handle, he guessed he was.

The metallic click the locking mechanism made as it opened could have been a gunshot, it was that loud in the absolute stillness of the room. Kise cringed and swerved his head around again to verify there wasn’t another soul in the room. Slumping in relief, he pushed up on the handle and the door swung open. A strange, almost ominous rustling noise filled the air seconds before an avalanche came cascading out of Murasakibara’s locker.

" _Glargh!_ " He yelped as he was quickly buried under the mountain. When the last item came rolling out and beaned him in the head, he discovered he was surrounded by a giant heap of candy, pastries, chips, ramen cups, and other food stuffs. Murasakibara's locker really had been filled with nothing but snacks and treats! Still, this was ridiculous! How had he fit this pyramid of junk food inside there? And, what was worse, how was Kise going to get it all back in?! Kise dropped his chin to his chest and sobbed for a good five minutes.

Finally rousing himself, he remembered to take a picture of the locker and the pile of food with his phone. It took him almost twenty minutes to shove all of the crap back into Murasakibara's locker. He couldn't be sure he got it all, either, not with the dim lighting. Kise could only pray the tall center never found out who had been rooting through the locker. He had no desire to be crushed.

The next one down was Midorima's. Surely, his would be much tidier than the previous. He seemed like he would be anal about that sort of thing, at least in Kise's mind. He didn't hesitate this time, just flung the door open. As he had suspected, everything was neat and orderly. Shirts were hanging properly. Towels were folded and stacked just right. Kise was actually disappointed until the top shelf caught his eye. Jackpot! Here were papers turned to the horoscope section. A map of Tokyo marked with the best locations to buy lucky items. A subscription to Oha-Asa's fanclub (she had one of those?).

Kise shook his head and was just about to take the picture when he noticed something in the back. He had to stretch to reach it, but was able to fumble his fingers along the edge of it enough to pull the object out. It was some sort of black leather case. His conscience warred with him on whether he should open it or not, but he was already a criminal guilty of breaking and entering. What was one more transgression? Satisfied with that weak and very shady justification, he popped the case open. Kise got one look at the contents, gasped, and then slammed the lid shut. Curse dolls. Midorima had  _curse dolls._ Little straw, faceless dummies all in a row, each sporting one of their names! And, for some reason, Kise's doll looked the most abused. Shivering, he stuffed the case back, snapped a hasty picture of the other items, and slammed the door. Damn those freshman, and damn his own stupid curiosity!

For the second time that evening, he started to turn around and leave, but Aomine's locker was next in line. This was the one he really, really wanted to see. How could he not, after those freshman had made it sound so mysterious? Plus, just the fact that it was  _Aomine's_  locker made Kise feel slightly giddy. Aomine had some undefinable magnetism that always drew his gaze. It wasn't just the basketball, though Kise would never get over how freaking cool it was just to watch Aomine play. No, it was the man himself that pulled Kise in. He exuded a charisma so different than the one Kise had perfected for the camera, and many a time Kise wished he could copy that charm, swallow it, and make it his own. Maybe he would find some clue to that strange magnetism here, in Aomine's locker, along with the porn he was sure was inside. Gulping loudly, he put his hand on the latch and pushed. The door began creaking open on its metal hinges. Kise's pulse raced in anticipation. He licked his lips nervously as he eased the door back and ...

"Kise, what are you doing?" A voice, smooth, low, and husky, murmured over his shoulder.

Of course he wasn't expecting it, and of course he reacted predictably.

" _Eiyaaaaah!_ " His high-pitched squeal echoed shrilly through the room as he jumped about five meters into the air. Heart in his throat, he spun around. Was it Midorima arriving to finish the job now that Kise had found his stash of devil dolls? Akashi about to punish him for defiling the sanctity of the team's private space by acting like a petty crook? The evil locker room demon come to claim his soul for daring to trespass during non club hours?  No, it was much, much worse.

"A-Aominecchi," Kise smiled weakly, raising a quivering hand to push suddenly damp bangs out of his eyes. "You startled me."

Aomine Daiki stood before Kise, arms crossed, feet planted firmly apart on the floor. He was in a tank and shorts, and even in the dim light Kise could see a the fine mist of sweat coating him. Aomine had been out training past official club hours again, but that was no surprise. Teikō's ace was famous for his one-track-mind when it came to basketball ... and  _shit_  Kise should have remembered that before he began this little adventure!

Now, with the shadows playing over him, Aomine looked like some kind of dark, avenging god. All lean, powerful lines and sharp angles and hard muscles that bunched and rippled with each movement, each breath. His eyes were two smoldering points of midnight fire in his dusky, handsome face. Kise had never felt intimidated by Aomine before. In awe of, jealous, stunned by the sheer magnitude of his talent, yes. He had certainly felt all of these, but never intimidation. Until now. He would take a step back but there was nowhere to go. He was trapped between Aomine's tall, athletic body and the lockers behind him.

Flicking a glance to his locker, which was open just a crack, and back to Kise, Aomine lifted one, dark eyebrow. His tone was deceptively soft as he asked, "Kise, were you trying to get into my locker?"

 "Ah, well, that's, y'see," Kise stammered incoherently until his own weakness started to piss him off. Squaring his shoulders, he lifted his chin and shamelessly confessed. "That's right, Aominecchi! I was about to peek into your locker. The locker you won't let anyone else look at. Because," he raised  his voice dramatically, "I know you have porn in there that you aren't sharing with the rest of us!"

"Kise, you assho-- _huh_?" Aomine had leaned forward, a dangerous look on his face, but when Kise's last sentence registered, his menacing aura dissipated. "Has all that time in front of the camera rotted your brain or something? Of course I'm not keeping porn in my gym locker, dumbass! What the hell gave you that idea in the first place?"

Pushing his index fingers together like a naughty young boy who had just gotten caught stealing from the cooking jar, Kise puffed his cheeks out and pouted, "But, Aominecchi never lets anyone see inside. And, you threatened Taro from second string with face dislocation when he just asked to look. And ... and those first years said you react violently whenever anyone gets near your locker and it's open."

"Who's Taro, and what first years? You aren't making any sense Kise, and you still aren't getting in my locker."

"Grr. Don't be so stingy. I'll bring my stash and share it with you,too!"

"I said it's not porn, can't you get that through your retarded blonde head?!" Aomine threw up his hands in frustration.

"Then what's in there?" Kise pushed away from the lockers and latched onto Aomine's arm. He clung and tugged, cementing the image of little kid as he whined. "Tell me. Tell me, Aominecchi."

Aomine actually squirmed, looking uncomfortable, and tried to pry Kise off of him. "It's none of your business, Kise. Now get off of me before I smack you."

"I'll just see for myself, then!" Kise cackled. Screw the consequences. All Aomine's protests and refusals had made him that more determined to see what was inside. If he got a beating for it after, well it was worth it to go where no one else had gone before. He snickered silently at his own joke as he placed his hand on Aomine's face and shoved, hard. Aomine lost his balance and tumbled backward with a curse. Kise chuckled, somewhat manically, and pounced on the locker door. He had it open but wasn't able to get a look inside before a strong, muscled arm was suddenly wrapped around his neck.

"Kise, you bastard, I'm going kick your ass!" Aomine growled, applying pressure to the headlock so that Kise was bent nearly in half.

Kise beat on the arm choking him and gasped, "It's your fault, Aominecchi. The more you say no, the more you make me want to do it."

"That's something  _criminals_  say, Kise," Aomine shook him.

"Well, if you are going to punish me anyway, I'm going to make sure I get what I came for!"

He let those cryptic words hang on the air and stopped trying to free himself from Aomine's choker hold of death. Instead, Kise reached into the pocket of his shorts. His fingertips touched cold, hard plastic. Triumph filled him. He had been storing his cell phone there in between each locker visit. Jerking it out, he performed a series of contortions that would amaze even the famed Houdini and held it up behind him.  _Click_. There was a small sound and a flash of light.

"What did you just do?"  Aomine asked suspiciously. His concentration, and his grip, loosened and Kise scampered away.

Presenting his back to the other player, he laughed evilly. "Muahaha, Aominecchi. You might have stopped me from  _physically_  looking inside your locker, but now you have been thwarted by technology. All I have to do is press this button, and  _poof_  the picture I just took will pop up on my display. And, there's nothing you can do to stop it."

"Wait, Kise, don't!" There was a real note of panic in Aomine's voice. He jumped on Kise's back, his big hand curving around to swipe the phone, but it was too late. Kise sucked in a long, loud breath. His golden eyes, normally heavy lidded and shuttered (bedroom eyes his agent called them) were as wide and round as saucers.

"Th-this is all me," he murmured in awe and confusion. And it was. Though the cell phone screen wasn't that big, the image was clear. Aomine's locker was papered top to bottom with pictures of Kise. A few were candid shots, like this one from the cell phone, but most were from magazines he had appeared in.

Aomine emitted a noise that was a half step between a groan and a sigh, but it was definitely a sound of resignation. He even dipped his head briefly against Kise's before pulling away. Kise didn't know what to think. His brain felt like oatmeal. On autopilot, he put the phone back in his pocket. Then, slowly turning around, he looked up the three centimeters into Aomine's eyes. Bright topaz clashed with blue onyx, and Kise trembled, not even knowing the reason for his shivering.

Gathering his courage, he gave voice to the question literally burning the tip of his tongue. "Why is your locker filled with pictures of me, Aominecchi?"

With a disgusted expression on his face, Aomine curled his fists on his hips. He glanced away and snapped, "Isn't it obviously because I like you, dumbass?"

Now Kise wouldn't swear to it, but he was pretty sure no one had ever called him a "dumbass" when confessing before, and he had received hundreds of confessions in his life. That was what had just happened, right? He wasn't delusional. Aomine Daiki, basketball prodigy and ace of the Generation of Miracles, had just confessed to one Kise Ryouta. There was a loud buzzing in his ears and the ground started to look awfully close. Groping behind him, he found the cool metal expanse of the lockers. He braced himself and sagged against them.

"Oi, Kise, say something," Aomine demanded a bit combatively, finally looking at him again.

With a shaky laugh, Kise asked, "What do you want me to say? Why do you even like me?"

"I wish someone would tell me that!" Aomine's face took on a hunted look. "If they did, then maybe I could find a way to get rid of these feelings, flush you out of my system, and return to normal."

"You make me sound like some kind of disease, Aominecchi," Kise grumbled.

There was a subtle shift in the air. Even from where he was standing, Kise could feel the strange tension that suddenly gripped Aomine.

"You are a disease, Kise. I’ve actually thought that to myself for some time now," Aomine said softly, and his voice was deeper than ever, raw and thick with something Kise didn't understand. "You are a sickness that has gotten into my blood, my bones, my very marrow." He was moving as he spoke, prowling slowly forward like giant jungle cat with a tasty, juicy morsel in its sights. Kise had the abrupt, uncomfortable thought that  _he_  was that tasty morsel.

"You burrowed your way into my heart," Aomine was looming over him now, one arm resting above Kise's head on the lockers. "Always chasing after me, challenging me when no one else does. Always refusing to give up. Following me around with those golden eyes, and that golden hair, and that golden skin. Driving me crazy until I want to strip you bare and find out if you are truly golden all over."

Kise was mesmerized by the blatant, rich sensuality dripping like syrup from Aomine's words. It was such a stark contrast from the basketball junkie who played with a wide, happy smile and eyes that shone like a kid's in a candy store. There was no trace of that Aomine here. His body was close now, so close Kise could feel the heat pouring off him, smell the sun and the earth and something else, something uniquely Aomine, drifting up from his damp skin. Close enough that his breath steamed across Kise's face with every breath he exhaled. Kise felt a frisson of fear work its way up his spine. It had to be fear, he told himself, because there was just no way it could be excitement.

"Back off, Aomenicchi," he commanded with a bravado he definitely wasn't feeling.

"No," Aomine smiled, a dark, wicked smile. He brought his other hand up and, to Kise's shock, lightly tapped Kise's bottom lip. "I tried to keep you from finding out because I knew that bubble head of yours wasn't ready, but you just  _had_  to find out, didn't you? You just would not be satisfied until you peeked inside and discovered my secret, would you? Well, you've opened the forbidden box, Kise, now you have to live with the consequences."

Kise was a dear trapped in the headlights, and Aomine was the car bearing down on him. He was frozen, eyes wide, unable to move, barely able to breathe. He did, however, manage to wail, "I thought it was porn, dammit!"

There was that sinful, devilish smile again. Aomine leaned in, lowering his dark head until his nose bumped up against the sensitive spot right behind Kise's ear. "But those pictures  _are_  my porn, Kise," he breathed, the words sliding over Kise's skin like hot, liquid silk. Nothing he said could have shocked Kise more, and the blonde stiffened.  "I have ones just like them at home. Shall I tell you what I do at night, in my dark lonely bed, when there is no one around?"

He moved, raising his head just enough so his lips trailed up to Kise's ear. When he spoke again, the warm, moist puffs of air that accompanied every syllable had Kise shivering again. "I look down at the magazine in my hand, at your face grinning cockily up at me from the glossy cover, and lust burns low and deep inside my stomach.”

“Stop it,” Kise pleaded, his mind reeling, but the whispered entreaty went unheeded. Aomine didn’t stop. He just kept going, filling the air with his husky, seductive voice.

“My hand is hot, damp, sometimes it even trembles as it travels down beneath the elastic of my boxers. And then I touch  _it_ , while still looking at your face, I grab that thing between my thighs and I masturbate. And, when I’m done, when my hand is wet and sticky, it is one word that bursts from my throat as my body shakes.  _Kise_.”

Kise shuddered at the way Aomine said his name, and couldn’t stop the whimper that bubbled from his lips when Aomine’s tongue flicked out, rimming the edge of his ear once he had finished speaking. This was insane. All he had wanted when he had snuck in here was to look into each of the guys’ lockers, take a few pictures, maybe get a couple of laughs out of whatever oddball items they had kept stored away inside. But now, now he knew Murasakibara was planning on turning their locker room into his own version of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. Midorima practiced the dark arts when no one was looking. And Aomine, well Kise now knew Aomine could give him a look so hungry, so wild, so heated it was like he was being devoured alive by those dark, blue eyes.

With one, last desperate attempt he tried to put an end to this craziness. “Aominechhi, I like girls. You can’t do this.  _We_  can’t do this.” It might have been more convincing if hadn’t been panting as he issued the denial, if his own voice hadn’t been raspy and uneven.

Aomine lifted his head, pulling back just enough so that he could stare into Kise’s face. “I like girls, too. And boobs, big ones, but it doesn’t change the most important thing.”

“What … what’s that?” Kise swallowed, unable to look away.

“ _This_ ,” Aomine growled, and then kissed him. Kise gasped at the first touch of firm, masculine lips on his. That was all the invitation Aomine needed to take Kise’s mouth hard, drive his tongue inside, sweep it around and stroke it deep.  It was a ravenous, starving kiss. Aomine ate and sucked and bit at his lips and tongue. Not like kissing a girl at all. No girl, no woman, whatever her experience, had ever dominated him like this before. Kise’s own body eventually betrayed him, his arms creeping up to circle Aomine’s neck, his nails digging into those hard, muscular shoulders as he lost himself in the touch, taste, and scent that was Aomine.

He wasn’t aware Aomine had stopped kissing him, that’s how mixed up his senses were, until a harsh, guttural curse rent the air. Hands slid down his back, trailed along his spine, before curving around his butt. Strong fingers dug into his cheeks and jerked him close, pressing every part of their tall, fit, muscular bodies together.

“I want you, Kise.” It was a stark, scorching admission. Not that Kise hadn’t already been aware of it. He could feel Aomine’s “want” pressing hot, hard, and insistently against his own groin.

“I don’t—,” he started to protest, he wasn’t he sure what, but Aomine stopped him by rolling his hips, pushing that burning hardness deeper into the cradle of Kise’s thighs.

“You do,” Aomine scowled now. “Do you even have any freaking idea how you look at me? How those sun-gilded eyes of yours watch me when we are training or practicing? You stare at me like I’m one, big, giant ice cream, your favorite flavor, and you can’t wait to lick me all over. Do you know how hard it is to run laps when you have an erection the size of China trying to burst out of your gym shorts? It sucks, let me tell you.”

“I … I didn’t know.” He really didn’t. Kise had known he wanted to catch up to Aomine on the basketball court, had wanted to find the source of his mysterious allure and mimic it somehow. He had been well aware he ran after Aomine like an affection-starved child, but he had always believed that was just because he wanted to bask in that light, that radiance that Aomine exuded. It always seemed so warm where he was. Kise never attributed these motives to any kind of romantic or physical attraction, however. How could he? They were both men. But if what Aomine said was true, if he had been giving out those kinds of looks, then he didn’t know what to think anymore.

Aomine let go of Kise’s backside and brought his arms to the front. Before Kise could even blink, he had pushed Kise’s shirt up and dragged his hand up the blonde’s torso until he his palm skimmed over one nipple. 

“Don’t think,” Aomine murmured, accurately reading his mind. “Just feel.” He touched the small disc, rubbing it until it beaded and puckered in his hand, and then he pinched it. Kise choked on the deep breath he had been taking, feeling that tiny sting all over his body. Aomine hummed and ducked his head back down, nipping at Kise’s throat, before biting down right on that spot where his shoulder joined his neck. Kise moaned, he couldn’t help it, and Aomine chuckled.

Still holding Kise’s shirt up with one hand, he bent down, and took the nipple he had just tormented into his mouth. Lapping at it, tugging it, tasting it, he lavished attention on the tiny peak until Kise was spearing his hands into Aomine’s dark hair and biting his lip to keep from moaning again.

Then, Aomine was kissing and licking his way down Kise’s abdomen. All Kise could do was hold on and watch him helplessly, drowning in a flood of unfamiliar desires and sensations.  _This is Aominecchi_ , he thought,  _this is Aominecchi doing this to me, making me feel this way_.

Aomine stopped to trace his navel, dip his tongue into the tiny indention, and then he was slowly easing down Kise’s shorts. The cool air suddenly stirring around his bottom half was sobering.

His hands tightened in Aomine’s hair. “Aominecchi, I—.”

“It’s all right,” Aomine soothed, though his voice was strained so Kise knew it was costing him to be this gentle. He placed another kiss on Kise’s belly, nuzzled his hipbone, nibbled his thigh. Kise knew what was coming. He’d had girlfriends aplenty before, and more than one had done this for him, but nothing prepared him for the first, wet, searing stroke of Aomine’s tongue on his now hard, aching flesh. It was like being touched by a live electrical wire. His hips bucked of their own volition and he cried out.

Aomine grabbed his ass again with one hand to hold him still, circled his cock with the other, and slowly took the sensitive head into his mouth. He licked up and down the shaft, his teeth grazing slightly. It was awkward, but it didn’t hurt, and it was obvious Aomine had never done this before. It didn’t matter. Kise had never felt anything more devastating, more arousing than that sultry, wicked, and untutored mouth.  And his tongue,  _oh god oh god oh god_  his tongue! It teased, lapped at the head, probed the sensitive underside, and tasted the weeping slit in the center.

Kise’s hands were kneading in Aomine’s black-blue hair now. When Aomine began to suck in earnest, establishing a fast, steady rhythm and then touched his balls, cradling and rubbing the sensitive sac, Kise knew it was over.

“Stop … stop, Aominecchi. I’m going to come,” he wailed as he tugged on the dark strands of hair now almost wrapped around his fists.

Surprisingly, Aomine let him go. He rolled to his feet and he was breathing hard and heavy.

“We’ll go together then,” Aomine stare straight into his eyes and grinned, but it was a fierce, feral grin. “Turn around, Kise.”

His face must have given his sudden alarm away, because Aomine chuckled and shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about the thought that just passed through your head. I didn’t expect to find you here, snooping through my stuff and just asking to be attacked. I don’t have condoms or anything else on me. So, your ass is safe … for now.”

The way he said that last line had Kise shivering, either in dread or anticipation he didn’t know. There wasn’t a trace of deceit in Aomine’s expression, so Kise chose to believe him. On legs that were less than steady, he turned around. Bracing his arms on the lockers, he leaned his forehead against them and wondered again what in the world he was doing. But then Aomine’s chest, his  _bare_  chest, flattened against his back, and all rational thought fled.

Aomine brought his arms around, and one hand held his tank top. The other lifted in front of Kise, just a centimeter from his mouth, and Aomine breathed into his ear, “Lick it, Kise. Lick it and get it all wet for me.”

Kise didn’t understand, but he couldn’t resist the dark, velvety command. He flicked out his tongue, letting the saliva build, and began licking. Aomine tasted like salt and life and faintly of the basketball he was never without. When Kise had dampened his hand to his satisfaction, Aomine pulled it back. There was movement behind Kise, and a faint  _slick slick_  sound, and then Aomine’s hot, rigid,  _wet_ , penis was pushing between his thighs. Now he knew why Aomine wanted him to lick that hand.

“Press your legs together, tightly,” Aomine ordered.

He did, and Aomine’s dick slid under his, bumping and burning his now sensitized flesh with its scorching heat. Kise had never felt another guy’s cock on his before. Hadn’t known the kind of dark, delicious pleasure it would bring. Aomine began to thrust, one hand digging into Kise’s hip, the other, the one with the tank, rubbing and caressing Kise’s still-hard, still-ready to explode erection.

Harder and faster, Aomine rolled his hips, scraping their shafts over each other. It felt amazing, so amazing. Kise had already been on the verge before, and now he broke. Lights flashed behind his eyes, fire ignited somewhere below his belly, made a detour around his spine, and poured out in a liquid rush from his groin. Aomine’s cloth covered hand was there to catch it as Kise moaned and shuddered and pulsed out his climax.

All the while, Aomine never stopped thrusting, quicker now, with more force, his balls slapping against the back of Kise’s with each forward movement. And he was groaning Kise’s name, chanting it like a mantra, or a prayer. “ _Kise. Kise. Kise. Kise_.” And then, the last one, so faint Kise almost didn’t hear it, “ _Ryouta_.”

The sound gave Kise goospebumps and he turned his head, looked over his shoulder, and saw the strain on Aomine’s face, the slightly parted lips, and the wrinkle of concentration between his dark brows. He leaned forward, pressed his mouth to those open lips, slipped his tongue inside, and licked. Aomine moaned into his kiss, thrusts becoming erratic and after a few more, hard, violent plunges, he froze. Kise felt that thick, massive cock throb, and something wet and warm spilled between his thighs.

The kiss gentled after that, turned comforting, and Kise felt an odd pick in the vicinity of his heart. Pulling away with a shaky sigh, he stole the shirt from Aomine’s hand and proceeded to mop up the proof of the other’s passion from inside his legs. When that was done, he hastily jerked his shorts back up, feeling more secure with them back in place.

“Are you alright?” Aomine asked quietly.

He struggled internally for a moment before answering honestly. “I don’t know.”

“You will be.” That absolute confidence was staggering.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I said so. I won’t let you be anything other than alright, no better than alright, absolutely wonderful, from now on.”  A wide, cocky grin spread across Aomine’s face. He was standing there, sweaty from their romp, bare from the waist up, his dusky skin glistening in the murky light, and even with that brash, arrogant smile, he had never looked more beautiful. Kise wanted to kick him.

Kise snorted and walked with wobbly knees over to one of the benches. “Excuse me if I don’t have much faith in you at the moment. You just molested me in the locker room, and I never even got to see what was in Kurokocchi’s or Akashicchi’s lockers.”

“It was mutual molestation by the end,” Aomine gave him a pointed look. He flushed and glanced away, unable to deny he had been a full and willing participant once they had gotten into it. In the team’s locker room of all places! He was completely, utterly shameless. Kise didn’t know if he was going to be able to look any of the other guys in the eye ever again.

“Besides,” Aomine continued, “we can look at the other lockers right now. I have to admit, you’ve got me curious, too. By the way, Tetsu’s locker  _is_  normal. I’ve seen it. There’s just books, a few shirts, a pair of shoes, and a towel in there.” He walked up to the nearest one to him, which happened to be Akashi’s, and carelessly flicked it open. When he didn’t move or say anything, Kise opened his mouth to ask what he was seeing, but he wasn’t able to. A loud siren suddenly went off, accompanied by red, flashing lights.

Aomine spun around, raced over to him, jerked him off the bench, stopped to throw the soiled shirt in his locker and slam the door shut, and then dragged Kise out of the room at a breakneck speed.

“Aominecchi, what was in there and why are we running?” Kise gasped as they fled, still slightly out of breath from their earlier exertions.

Vehemently shaking his head, Aomine picked up the pace and said, “Don’t ask. Don’t ever, ever ask.” There was cold, hard fear in his voice. Kise became a little frightened himself.

They made it out of the gym and were jogging down the sidewalk when Aomine spoke again. “If Akashi hasn’t killed us by the time practice is over tomorrow, do you uh want to go get some ice cream or something?”

Feeling something warm and fuzzy start spreading through his chest, Kise’s lips kicked up in a grin. “Why, are you asking me out on a date, Aominecchi?” He added a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Ah, yeah, I guess?” Aomine sounded embarrassed now. It was actually really cute, considering the alpha male display he had put on earlier.

Kise pretended to consider it for a moment. “I don’t know, I have pretty expensive tastes. You might not be able to afford the kind of ice cream I like.”

“Dammit, Kise, are you going to go or not?” Aomine turned around, all puffed up and annoyed, until he saw the smile on Kise’s face and the twinkle in his honey-gold eyes.  “Why you, little bastard. C’mere, so I can smack your ass.”

He grabbed at Kise, but the blonde agilely ducked out of reach with a snicker. “You can’t smack my ass if you can’t catch it.”

Aomine’s eyes narrowed, but his lips twitched as well. “Oh, I think I can catch you, so you better be prepared not to sit comfortably for a while.”

Kise just crooked his finger in a gesture of challenge and then spun around, putting on a burst of speed and letting his long legs carry him away as fast as they could. His musical laughter rang out, filling the evening air as the two played a game as old as time itself. In the end, they both were winners.

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the anonmeme who asked for a fic with Aomine always hiding his locker contents and never letting anyone see inside until a curious Kise tries to find out.


End file.
